


Cops vs. Feds: Wrongfully Arrested

by Bastet5



Series: The Wild Hunt [4]
Category: Blue Bloods (TV), FBI: Most Wanted (TV 2020)
Genre: Gen, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Trigger Warnings, Wrongful Imprisonment, excessive force, racial profiling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24507850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bastet5/pseuds/Bastet5
Summary: July 2017A hot afternoon out for ice cream turns into the afternoon of a no-good, horrible, very bad day for Kateri when the NYPD arrests her in a SNAFU arrest in a ridiculous confluence of circumstances.In other words, it really is convenient for your partner/best friend to be a lawyer.
Relationships: Clinton Skye & Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Wild Hunt [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678864
Comments: 27
Kudos: 14





	Cops vs. Feds: Wrongfully Arrested

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS!
> 
> You might not want to read this story if you are sensitive to issues about racial profiling, excessive force by police, or issues of cops interacting with racial minorities.

July was probably one of Kateri’s least favorite months of the year if not her least favorite. For a woman who preferred either moderate temperature or cold plus snow, despite the fact that she was often cold herself especially after panic attacks, a month full of usually boiling-hot temperatures in a concrete jungle was not high on her list of nice things. Yes, July 4 and the fireworks were fun, but boiling heat plus thunderstorms plus periodic power outages ( _my building has enough problems as it is. Doesn’t need help from the weather_.) plus grumpy people equals loads of fun. _Nottttttttttttttttt. Don’t slip on my dripping sarcasm_.

 _Something about hot weather makes people a little loony_.

During the heat of summer, Kateri allowed herself a twice a month trip to an ice cream shop outside the Bronx for a sweet, cold treat. Today was one of those days, a boiling hot Saturday of about 90 degrees. _Yes, I know it can get a lot worse, but it rarely got this hot in Canada when I was growing up. The average high in Montreal is like 80 degrees._ (Montreal was the closest big city to the Kahnawake reserve on the opposite side of the Saint Lawrence River.)

It was about 2pm in the afternoon, and Kateri had just finished a 2-scoop bowl of cookies and cream ice cream with hot fudge sauce and was scanning through news on her phone, feeling quite relaxed and not in the mood to do much of anything productive. _This weather makes me want to take a nap … in a freezer. Or maybe take a cold shower for one of the rare times in my life. One advantage about living by myself: nobody to complain when I steam up the bathroom_. Then she noticed something odd: a pair of cops going by the front window of the ice cream shop … again. The same pair of cops.

Kateri checked the time on her phone, feeling a dawning thread of both puzzlement and concern.

_That’s the third time in like twenty minutes._

_That’s weird._

For another fifteen minutes, she remained sitting at the same table to all appearances absorbed with whatever she was doing on her phone. In reality, she was surreptitiously studying each and every person who entered and exited the ice cream shop or passed by the windows or was visible outside. She clocked the same pair of cops go by a fourth time and thought she might have seen a plain-clothes cop nearby, as well.

_Okay, this is hinky. Definitely hinky._

_Something is definitely going on. The question was what and against whom_.

 _Whatever is going on, I don’t know want to get caught in the middle of it_.

_Especially considering how obvious those two beat cops are being. Bloody h**l, a rookie could clock ‘em._

_Really, really, really hope they’re overenthusiastic, green-as-grass, dumb-as-sheep rookies who just need a good kick-upside the head to get some street sense. Though hold up … you wouldn’t have two rookies together. Bloody h**l, I don’t think I want to know what’s going on._

_Time to go home and get clear of this developing mess._

Kateri rose to her feet, slipping out of the booth at the back of the shop that had given her a prime view of the windows and the entrance to the shop. Long experience and years as an agent had made her dislike having her back to a major entrance unless there was someone she trusted her facing that entrance. ( _I’d happily release the seat that puts your back to the wall to Clinton or one of the others, but I know they’d be watching my back.)_ While her left side was still hidden by the booth itself, she adjusted her shirt, which had ridden up slightly, to make sure it was fully covering her Glock. Her job meant that she carried at least one gun off-duty almost all the time. Slipping her phone back into the pocket of her cargo pants, she grabbed her ice cream dish, put it on the counter to be cleaned, and then headed for the door.

Kateri was just a couple strides from the door when a young boy, maybe ten or twelve years old, collided with her, which forced her back a stride so that she bumped into the edge of a booth, slamming her hip painfully. _Bloody h**l, that hurt_. Fast reflexes sprang into use despite the flare of plain, and she caught his shoulders, steadying him before he could fall. After quick apologies, she was then on her way out the door, resisting the urge to rub at her hip. _That’ll bruise tomorrow_.

 _Let’s see …,_ Kateri’s mind was starting to turn to what chores were on the to-do list for the rest of the afternoon, _I need to wash my sheets and vacuum. I’ve got enough groceries for now. Don’t want to keep too many at a time, or they’ll just rot while I’m off on a hunt. Do I want to …_

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. Distracted, Kateri automatically swept one arm down to break the hold and stuttered-stepped backwards, hands thrown up in front of her defensively. A second later, a wave of mixed relief and concern swept through when she saw who had grabbed her: it was one of the beat-cops who had been going back and forth past the ice cream shop window.

_Good thing I didn’t draw._

_Bloody h**l, though what the h**l’d they do that for?_

“Hey, watch it,” Kateri exclaimed, clamping down on the instinctive flare of heat that wanted to color her words, “Scare a lady half to death, doin’ that.”

The cop’s right hand gripped his gun, and he had half-drawn it from his holster instinctively probably after she’d broken his hold, but after a moment he returned it fully and loosened his grip. The cop was tall and about twice as big physically as Kateri herself. He had short cropped dark hair, dark eyes, and a wary expression in a face tanned heavily by the summer sun.

“Alejandra Moreno…” the officer began. His nametag read Mitchell.

A wave of horror swept across Kateri. _Oh, bloody hell._ She knew the name. It was one of her former aliases from her undercover days. _I haven’t used that name in years._

 _This is not the best part of town for that name to be getting floated._ She swore fervently in the silence of her own head. _Bloody h**l. I thought I was getting out of the mess. Apparently, I just walked right into it_.

Forcing a friendly smile onto her face, a smile that she most definitely did not feel as unease, annoyance, and a thread of fear rolled in her gut, Kateri replied, “I’m sorry, officer, but I think you’ve me mistaken for someone else.” _Let’s see if we can get this dealt with without making a scene_.

Officer Mitchell’s face hardened. “Sure,” he drawled, “Why didn’t you stop, Miss Moreno, when I called your name?”

Kateri’s eyes flitted around, looking for who else was in the vicinity, praying that there wasn’t anyone from the wrong groups in the area. That name—Alejandra Moreno—was associated with some of her past dealings with Billy and allies of the Underground Crew. Currently, she was much too close to the territory of some not-so allies of the Crew. Alejandra and Kateri acted and dressed enough differently that most people would not recognize them as the same person, but _better to be safe than sorry and try to avoid a potential mess in the first place._

_How on earth did these two lugs recognize me anyway?_

“I was lost in thought, Officer. I am afraid you have the wrong person,” Kateri said, moving one hand slowly toward her belt so she could flash her FBI badge, which was clipped to her belt. _I’m not looking for special treatment because I’m a Fed, nor would I deserve special treatment if I’d done something wrong, but since I’ve done zilch and there seems to be some misunderstanding, let’s see if we can smooth things over without making more of a scene._

“Keep your hands where I can see them!” Officer Mitchell snapped, when Kateri’s hand had barely brushed her belt.

 _I’m usually the one saying that_ , one side of Kateri’s mind noted wryly, while the other side felt a wave of horror rush over her. Her badge was missing. She had noted its presence less than an hour before. _The kid! I ran into that kid. It must have fallen off my belt in the shop. Bloody h**l_. Her badge was a necessary part of her plan in getting this situation dealt with quietly. Anyone could talk and say they were a Feebie, but Kateri needed the proof of her badge. _With my badge, I’m a fed; without it … I think I’m in trouble_.

Kateri didn’t raise her hands into the air but spread them out to either side of her body where they were clearly distant from anything she might have hidden on her belt under her loose shirt. _Okay. You can still deal with this without getting yourself shot_. _You know the drill. You’ve been on the other side._

_Don’t make sudden moves. Don’t be a smart mouth. You’re at the disadvantage here._

_Where’s backup when I need it?_

Subtlety, Kateri started shifting her body language, shifting her weight on her feet. The goal was to look less like she could or might spring forward against Mitchell or against his partner who had crossed the street and to look less like a threat, including to the few people who were starting to pay attention.

 _If someone starts recording this, I don’t want to look like a threat_.

“I don’t want any trouble, Officer. You’ve mistaken me for someone else,” Kateri tried again

Mitchell’s partner—also tall, dark, unpleasant … and white ( _just my luck_ )—had a look that clearly said, “Sure we do,” with buckets of dripping sarcasm attached to each and every word. His grip on his still holstered gun was tighter than his partner, and Kateri turned just slightly to keep him in her sight better … and to see what his name tag was. _Smith_.

“Where were you Wednesday night around 10pm?” Mitchell asked

 _Driving home from a case_.

_I think I was asleep while Clinton drove._

_So, where we were at 10pm … I’ve got no bloody idea._

“Heading back from work.”

“Work where?” Mitchell pushed.

“Multiple states.” Kateri hedged.

_How much do I dare say out in the open???_

_How much am I allowed to tell you?_

_Bloody h**l, how do I bloody get myself into these bloody messes?_

“Who do you work for?” Mitchell pushed further, impatience starting to creep into his features.

“That is a discussion best kept for anywhere else but the open street.”

“Because?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so can we please just stop beating around the bush? Why did you stop me?” Kateri replied honestly though a little bluntly, glancing around again. The ice cream shop she favored was a quiet neighborhood, and on a hot day, more people were staying inside, so thankfully only a few people were watching … _still, so far. If this gets ugly, we still might draw a crowd_.

Without further ado, Mitchel responded, “Alejandra Moreno, you are under arrest. Please put your hands behind your head.”

 _Oh, bloody hell_.

_On what bloody charges???_

Kateri had no interest in this turning into any more of a scene than it already had and complied, slowly raising her arms, clearly telegraphing her movements, and lacing her fingers behind her head. Unfortunately, before she could ask what she was actually under arrest for, finishing raising her arms and lacing her fingers raised the hem of her shirt with it, revealing the Glock on her left hip.

“Gun!” Mitchell shouted.

A split second later, before she had even time to react with more than yet another mental _bloody h**l_ , Mitchell was coming at her, and she was body slammed her to the ground. It went against every ingrained instinct from a troubled childhood and years as a federal agent, but Kateri forced herself to not resist, forced herself to go against every fight-or-flight instinct she had. All she did was force one arm forward enough to blunt her hard fall and keep her head and face from smacking at full speed into the sidewalk. Her chin did hit the ground hard and then the side of her head, and there was a flood of blood in her mouth, and she almost gagged at the copper taste.

 _I must have bit my tongue_. She realized, once the first rush of instinctive panic-fear had faded. _At least nothing’s broken … like my nose or teeth or face._

Her next thought was, _I hope someone got that on video. I’m so bringing you up on charges of excessive force. My fingers were interlaced. Hands nowhere near my gun. Tell me to get on my knees. Body-slamming was unnecessary.  
_

Her next thought was, _At least they didn’t shoot me_.

“I have a permit for that in my wallet,” Kateri said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. A trickle of blood was running down the side of her forehead, she could feel it as it moved, and her arm ached fiercely, and there were deep abrasions on her elbow and forearm from where had used her arm to blunt her fall. _I should have stayed in bed_.

“Sure you do.”

_Cops vs. feds in a he-said, she-said argument. Greatttttttt._

Kateri’s hands were cuffed, not gently and much too tightly, behind her back, and she was pulled to her feet and frog-marched to a nearby cop car. The drive to the precinct took like ten minutes, and after Mitchel read her Miranda rights to her, she tuned out their talking and questioning and tried to dredge up what she remember about this alias—this mistaken identity—and what she might have done that made the NYPD think she was guilty … of something,

_When I wasn’t even in the bloody state … I think … when someone did whatever the h**l they think I bloody did._

As they were pulling into the parking lot, Kateri tried again to make the officers see sense, shifting slightly to try to ease the pressure that the position her tightly bound hands were in was putting on her aching shoulders. Her whole body ached from the fall. Her head hurt. Her arm hurt. Her mouth hurt. Her wrists hurt, and her fingers were almost slightly tingly. “My name is Kateri Wood, not Alejandra Moreno. You have the wrong person. I am an FBI agent with the New York Field Office.”

Smith guffawed, and Mitchell added, “We can add Impersonating a Federal Officer to your list of offenses.”

_List?????? I should have stayed in bed._

“I ran into a kid while I was at the ice cream shop down the street from where you arrested me,”— _no, don’t say assailed like you want to. Don’t lose your temper—_ “my badge must have been knocked from my belt. If you’d send an officer there, you could see for yourself.”

“Nice try,” Mitchell replied, slamming on the brakes slightly harder than was really necessary as he stopped the car, tossing Kateri around a little, “As I said, all you’re doing is adding Impersonating a Federal Officer to your list of offenses.”

“What exactly am I under arrest for?” Kateri asked, fighting to keep her voice calm and level and not let any hint of emotion that would antagonize … well, anyone … slip into her voice.

_Been a while since I’ve had a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day. Hoped it would be longer before another one._

“Weapon’s possession, assault, possession with intent to distribute, assault, and impersonating a federal officer,” Mitchell replied. He seemed to be the mouthpiece of the two officers. Smith seemed to be more of the strong, silence, and maybe a little twitchy type.

_Seriously?_

_Okkkkaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyy_.

“And when exactly am I supposed to have done all this?”

_Wednesday, I’m guessing, you think, when I wasn’t even in the state??!!_

_Even if I was, I was with Clinton probably asleep._

_Alibi! If I can even get to bringing that up … Bloody h**l, I am slow today._

“You tell us,” Mitchell replied, opening the back door, “Out!”

Kateri climbed out painfully and awkwardly, tucking her head to wipe the blood on her forehead onto her t-shirt, “And someone identified me doing this?”

“Picked you out of a photo array,” Mitchell seemed quite cheerful for some odd reason, as he led her into the building, which was wonderfully cool, at the very least.

_Picked me out, or picked a Hispanic or Native American woman of about my age with similar features out?_

Having a non-descript face was the whole reason that Kateri had succeeded in undercover work in the first place. Most people just looked her right past her, right over her and kept on going. The only photo of Alejandra in the system was several years old, and Kateri really doubted somewhat one had actually picked her—picked Alejandra—out of a photo array.

_It’s not out of the realm of possibility, but if it happened, I might go buy a lottery ticket._

_I’m not going to believe it until I see the bloody evidence in front of my bloody face._

_Bloody h**l, you’re swearing too much._

_Seriously, I just swore about swearing too much._

_Is this day ever going to be over?_

Kateri was frog-marched inside—and if she wasn’t so angry, she might have been a little embarrassed—and placed in an interrogation room, and a medic was sent in to patch her up head and arm. There were no questions about other injuries. _I think everything else is just aches and pains from that fall, but shouldn’t you be checking me for a concussion or something?_ As an kinda/almost medic, Kateri could reasonably self-diagnose that she didn’t have a concussion … _probably, at least I’m not showing symptoms so far, but they don’t know that_.

Once her head and arm were roughly bandaged and all the contents of her pockets and boots had been removed, a new person—a detective by the looks of him—appeared.

 _At least my hands aren’t cuffed behind my back anymore._ They were now cuffed to the bar on the table, which was bolted to the floor, but Kateri had a few seconds to rub the circulation back into her hands and fingers.

“You are in quite a bit of trouble, Miss Moreno,” the detective began, pulling out the chair on the opposite side of the table with a screeeeeccccchhhhhh of metal that sounded as bad as nails on a chalkboard and sitting down casually, “We have investigated your claim to be a federal agent, and there is no proof you are what you say. We ran your ID, and nothing appeared.”

Kateri sighed. _That’s on purpose, you moron. The FBI doesn’t want someone running my pic or other info and one of my aliases getting IDed as a Fed by someone who knows too much._

_Draw a clue card from what I said and didn’t say and where and don’t stop._

The detective was still talking … _blathering_ , “You have no ID on you to prove that claim. You have been identified as a suspect in multiple open cases, and we have pictures of you consorting with a local gang king-pin.”

_Hopefully, you at least found my concealed weapons permit in my wallet, and it didn’t get disappeared._

_Billy, I’m guessing. Bloody h**l._

“If these crimes occurred on Wednesday of this week, as one of the arresting officers insinuated before he arrested me, it could not be me, for the very at least no other reason than I was not even in New York _STATE_ on Wednesday,” Kateri replied, letting a hint of bone-deep exasperation leak into her voice.

“Hmmmmm, and where were you exactly, Miss Moreno?”

_Did you practice that patronizing sound that makes you sound like a weasel?_

_Eh, let’s not think about weasels. Now’s not the time for bad memories or panic attacks._

“Miss Wood or Agent Wood will do, detective, and I am not saying another word until I can call my lawyer.”

_Partner, you’d better agree to represent me, ‘cause I’ve got no idea who else to call._

The detective’s face hardened, “You are not helping your case with these continued claims.”

_Yeaa, yeaa, yeaaa, yeaaa, just in this case I’m actually innocent._

“Lawyer,” Kateri repeated, shifting positions enough to get her good arm under her bad one, so her scraped elbow wasn’t pressed into the table.

“Do you have something to hide?”

_Just because a person requests legal council that they are entitled to have by law does not mean that they are hiding something or actually did something wrong._

“Lawyer.”

After more back-and-forth and several more exasperating repetitions of “lawyer,” the detective finally realized— _he didn’t even introduce himself—_ he was not going to get anything more out of Kateri before her lawyer arrived. A phone was brought to her, and she was allowed to make a call. _Even gave me privacy. Maybe. Room might have a speaker in here._ Awkwardly, she dialed a familiar number and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Clinton Skye." After only a few rings, her partner’s voice filled her ear. From the background noises, he was probably out at his parents’ farm. A ring of childish laughter a second later almost confirmed that. _Sorry to interrupt the family time_. 

"Clinton, it's me."

“Hey, kid! How are you?”

“Not good,” Kateri replied, a hint of stress and pain leaking into her voice. _I think this is going to go down in team lore._ “I’m in a pickle, and I need help.”

There was a muffled yell of “Jess!” and then Clinton asked, his voice going from light-hearted to serious but calm in an instant. Just hearing him calm helped settle her nerves. “What’s going on? What do you need?”

“A lawyer. I’ve been arrested.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the line for a moment as if her partner couldn’t believe his ears. _Wouldn’t blame him. I’m living it, and I still almost can’t believe it._ “For what?” Clinton sounded dumbstruck.

“A laundry list of things which occurred while we were out of state this week. My badge got knocked off my belt a few minutes before I was arrested, and no one believes a word I’m saying.” Kateri replied, “And I need help.” Her voice shook slightly at the end.

Jess’s voice came distantly through the speaker. “What’s going on?”

“Kateri’s been arrested,” Clinton replied, before adding, “What precinct are you at?”

“The 65th.” _Thank bloody h**l, I saw that as we were pulling up_.

“Do not say a word until we get there, understand? Jess and I are on our way.”

“Copy.” _Wasn’t planning on it, anyway._

Assured that backup was on the way, which might extend to the whole cavalry in short order, Kateri ended the call, handed the phone back to the detective who had reappeared. _Definitely being watched_. “My lawyer is on his way along with the proof that I am FBI, so you’re not getting anything more from me until they arrive.”

_If everyone shows up, I don’t know whether I’m going to laugh in relief or cry for embarrassment._

The detective was suspicious but declined to press her further and left her alone to wait and wait and wait in the interrogation room. Kateri’s back was to the window that looked out over the squad room, but the cuff’s chain was long enough for her to be able to turn just enough to keep an eye on the comings and goings.

 _Though if you do that for more than minute or two at a time, you’ll get a kink in your neck and a pounding headache_.

An hour passed interminably slowly. _At least, I still have my watch_.

The chair was hard, and her position with her hands cuffed was not the most comfortable.

Her head ached slightly from the fall. Her arm hurt, and the bandages itched.

_Scratch that … everything aches. I think I’m going to feel like one giant bruise tomorrow._

_I want a hot shower._

_I think I might have a wee bit of sympathy now for the perps Kenny takes down._

Kateri was worried about the situation and bored out of her mind.

 _Stakeouts are not going to be boring again for a very long time_.

The restraints and the small room were not doing anything good for her claustrophobia either. _Stay calm, stay calm,_ she told herself multiple times. _The walls are not moving. Now is not the time or the place to have a panic attack._

But, finally, Clinton and Jess arrived with Kenny in tow. How they did it, she did not know—she could only half-see what was going on outside and not hear a word—but within a few minutes of arriving they had ALL bullied their way into seeing her, and the interrogation room opened, and there they were.

 _It’s about time._ Kateri felt a rush of sheer relief that almost brought tears to her eyes. Once she would have been used to getting herself out of pickles on her own, but by now she had gotten rather spoiled to backup. She was also just simply glad to see her partner regardless … especially if things escalated up to a full-blown panic attack from simple anxiety and the uneasy prickling across her skin.

From his face, Clinton was already not in a good mood, but the look on his face went even harder as soon he saw the bandages on his partner’s face and arm. He came forward and crouched beside her chair, as the others filed in behind him and closed the room door. Her partner reached up one hand but did not touch her until she had nodded permission, and she let him tilt her head so he could see everything better.

“Tell me what happened,” Clinton instructed, speaking for the first time, “Don’t leave anything out however minor you might think it is.”

_One sad, sorry, convoluted mess, coming right up…_

Jess took the seat on the other side of the table, pulling the chair well back from it, while Kenny stood, leaning against the closed door.

Quickly, Kateri outlined what had happened that afternoon, starting at the ice cream shop when she had first seen her two arresting officers— _bloody h**l, that’s a funny thing to say_ —and ending when she had been able to call him for help.

“What’s the address for the shop you were at?” Jess asked, giving Kenny a pointed look.

Kateri rattled it off, and Kenny nodded, already pulling out his phone, “On it, boss. I’ll be back, Kat, just hang tight,” and departed, closing the door behind him.

Clinton rose from his crouch after he had checked her head to his satisfaction and carried out a couple of quick concussion checks and leaned against the table within arm’s length of his partner. _That is, he could touch me. Not sure I could touch him the way my hands are cuffed_. His voice tightly controlled, he asked to explain again carefully and in detail how she had gotten her injuries and how they had been treated by the cops.

Her partner’s face got darker with almost every word she said. When he had then asked her a few more questions about procedural matters and the police’s investigations of her claims, he paused for a moment, and Kateri could almost see his mind working, planning.

_This day is going badly enough that I’m going to enjoy watching him have words with the local cops._

_Mince meat_ , she sing-songed mentally.

“The cops think you’re Alejandra Moreno,” Jess inserted, speaking for the first time since backup had arrived, “Who is she exactly?”

“Not much more than a name actually,”— _and wasn’t that a bloody mistake. Eh, eh, don’t go down that mental road either. Not the time for a panic attack_ —“I have ins of various sorts with a number of state and city gangs, but only Billy and the Underground Crew know who I really am, not even the Crew’s allies know. A few years ago, I needed a meeting with some of Billy’s acquaintances, and my unit came up with a basic, very basic cover. Billy knowing me was most of the back-stop I needed, and we were in a hurry.”

“So how were the police able to identify you?” Clinton asked.

 _I bloody doubt that they actually bloody did_.

Kateri shrugged and then winced when the move pulled on sore muscles— _I need some IB and a hot shower … and a nap_ —“I was arrested once, wrong-place, wrong-time, but I was never charged. My picture will be in the system, but Alejandra and I dress and act much differently, and I was only 26 then and very good at making myself look like a scared kid.”

“The police said they identified you out of a photo array,” he asked, expressing twisting for a moment.

“I very much doubt it,” Kateri scoffed, _I’m buying a lottery ticket if they actually did,_ “The whole reason I excelled at undercover work was because most people just look over me and keep right on going. People don’t remember my face.”

“Two more questions, and then we’ll deal with this,” said Clinton, “What were you arrested for, then, not now?”

“Possession of cannabis.” _Not anything stronger despite who I was arrested with. It was the others that had the worse stuff._

“Okay, and you said they had a photo of you with Billy?”

“I’m assuming it’s Billy if they actually have a photo,” Kateri shrugged, “The detective never identified who I was with, and I haven’t met with any of my contacts recently. Even if it is Billy, it can’t have anything to do with this case. I’ve not talked to him ..” Kateri paused, screwing up her face into I’m-trying-to-dredge-something-up face, “in like … a month … ish.”

Clinton nodded, gave the boss a look, and then straightened, “Sit tight, kid. We’ll have you out of here soon.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, can you do it quickly? I’d really like to get out of here,” Kateri asked, a slight waver leaking into her voice against her will. She was just sick of this and wanted out of these cuffs and out of this room and out of this bloody situation. She bit her lip hard to keep back the prickling tears in her eyes.

 _I should have stayed in bed_.

Her partner— _bless him!_ —picked up on what she was not saying immediately, and Clinton returned to leaning on the edge of the table, put a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Your claustrophobia?”

Kateri nodded, “Restraints and small rooms, not a nice combination.”

_A very horrible combination: the walls closing in + being able to do nothing to escape._

_A claustrophobic’s nightmare in one horrid package_

_At least it’s better now that they’re here._

Clinton half-turned back toward Jess, a look of indecision crossing his face. Kateri’s partner was the resident lawyer and would definitely be needed along with Jess to deal with the ridiculous situation, but he also would want someone to stay with her.

“Go deal with them. I’ll stay with her until Barnes arrives,” said the boss, “and then I’ll be out to help clean up this mess.”

Clinton nodded. Turning back to his partner, he squeezed her shoulder gently, “I’ll be back soon. We’ll get this dealt with, and then we’ll get you home, copy?”

Kateri nodded, “Copy.”

Clinton departed, and Kateri craned her neck so she could half-see behind her and watch him. Granted she would have really preferred not being the one in a pickle in the first place, but watching Clinton go all lawyer on these hapless cops—she was not in a charitable mood after her entire day had gotten upended in a SNAFU for the record books—was one she was not going to miss if at all possible. _Kenny and Hana would call this a popcorn moment_.

“Today is not a good day to work in this precinct,” Jess said dryly after a minute.

Kateri turned back—there wasn’t much good to see yet—and gave a Cheshire cat grin, “No, it is definitely, bloody well not, and I can’t say that really bothers me right now.” Her voice softened, “Sorry to pull you away from the family thing, though. I wasn’t expecting the whole cavalry to come riding to the rescue.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jess replied with a shake of his head and an understanding, wry smile, “Tali understands. I wasn’t expecting Clinton to say you had been arrested, either, and no one knew how much backup would be needed.”

“This is definitely a new one,” Kateri agreed, craning her neck back around. Between the backup and the simple distraction, she could feel the edge of panic receding somewhat. She still wanted OUT ASAP, but a panic attack was no longer likely forthcoming … _hopefully_.

Barnes arrived within minutes and traded place with the boss, who left the door open as he exited letting the voices from down the short hall float in. _A ringside seat and audio. Yay. I was wondering if there’d be yelling loud enough for me to hear with the door closed._

“This is a new one,” Barnes noted wryly, taking a seat with elegant grace, “Your partner isn’t feeling charitable today, either.”

Kateri snorted, turning long enough to give her teammate a grateful smile, before returning her attention to the show. Her partner was in fine fettle today and definitely not feeling charitable. _Could have told you that from just seeing his face and watching his movements, even if I couldn’t hear a word out of his mouth_. Now, however, Kateri could actually hear bits and pieces of what was being said. Her partner was a very good lawyer, and he was very good at (usually) politely tearing people to shreds while giving them just enough rope to hang themselves on. Today, he was just not feeling so polite.

Clinton’s voice was not loud, but it carried. Jess’ voice was just plain loud enough to carry. While Kateri could not understand every word, she could pick out enough to follow the _dressing down?_ , and what she could see of their facial expressions made up for the rest.

Kateri turned back toward Barnes at one point when the voices got particularly loud, “Uh, do you need to go rescue the hapless cops from those two?” _Not feeling charitable, but …_

“Nope,” Barnes replied with a definitive shake of her head. The look on her face said what her words did not, “They deserve what’s coming to them.”

From Clinton, among various other things, there were multiple repetitions of “excessive force” and “police battery” as well as mentions of “insufficient grounds”; “racial profiling”; “jeopardizing ongoing federal investigations”; “risking exposing CIs” and something about a lack of investigation of her claims to be FBI. From Jess, there was much of the same, as well as one mention about the “SAC”— _oh, boy_ —and about the NYPD Police Commissioner.

_I don’t know much about Commissioner Reagan, but I think he’d definitely have a cow._

Finally, the voices unfortunately drifted out of range, and Kateri turned back toward Barnes, trying at the same time to stretch out the cramping muscles in her neck. _That’s what you get from craning your head so long._

 _Soooooooooooo worth it, though_.

“Apparently, minced NYPD stew is the dish of the day,” Barnes stated dryly, the barest hints of a smirk turning up the corners of her mouth.

_My heart bleeds for them._

Kateri laughed and then winced when the move pulled on the same sore, cramping muscles.

 _I really need a hot shower and some IB_.

“How’s Anais?” Kateri finally asked, fishing for something to talk about that would make a good distraction.

Barnes beamed, and the remaining time until Jess and her partner returned was filled with stories about the kiddo. Kateri was not comfortable around small children, preferring kids Tali’s age or older, but always liked hearing stories and seeing pictures of Anais. Eventually, about an hour after their departure, their two teammates returned from battle, and Kateri could hear Kenny and Hana talking in the hall. _The whole team really did get called in._

“With abject apologies,” Clinton declared in a voice dripping with sarcasm, as he brandished a key, “you are free to go. All charges have been dropped.”

“It’s about bloody time,” was Kateri’s instinctive reply with a quickly added, “You’re the best.”

 _Finally, an end in sight to this horrid day_.

“The photo that was picked out of the array, it wasn’t even you. Similar in some ways, but not you,” her partner continued, as he unlocked the handcuffs, leaving Kateri free to pull her arms back into a comfortable position and rub the red marks on her wrists, “Your alias and picture came up because of an ongoing investigation into Billy,”— _down here?_ —“And somehow the two incidents got ... smushed.”

_Of course, it bloody wasn’t. Called it._

“Figured,” Kateri muttered, rolling her eyes skyward, “Any word about my stuff?”

“On its way,” Jess replied from the doorway, “And Kenny has your ID.”

Kateri nodded, pushing herself to her feet and stretching out the kinks. A minute later, a female officer arrived with a box containing her stuff, and she was finally able to reload her pockets and return her gun to its place on her belt, and then it was time to go. Her partner wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a quick embrace before they made their way out the door. There were more shoulder pats and back-slaps in the hallway from the others, and there were plenty of abject thanks for getting her out of this impressive pickle after Kenny returned her badge.

They all made their way outside where the cars were parked.

“Would you like a ride home?” Her partner asked.

 _Oh, yes, please. There’s no way I’m walking … since I’m not even sure where I am totally … or riding the train_.

“That would be great, if you don’t mind.”

Kenny asked then if she’d rather come over to his place and watch a movie or play some games as stress relief, but Kateri declined on the grounds she wanted a very long, very hot shower, pain meds, and then a nap but thanked him most sincerely for the offer.

Everyone parted ways with final good wishes and Kateri’s repeated abject thanks for all the help.

And then finally Kateri was on her way home. _This day has definitely been one for the record books._


End file.
